Thirty percent
by TheMollyBee
Summary: Fury's not an idiot. He's a crafty bugger, sure, but he's not an idiot. Fix it. Clint/Coulson.
1. Chapter 1

Director Fury may have been many things, but an idiot was not one of them.

He knew that Coulson was not going to die from a freaking stab wound. Hello? It was Coulson. Phil Coulson. The guy was a real life James Bond. He stopped armed robbers with bags of flour, for Pete's sake. It doesn't matter that he was stabbed with a magical stick, woo big deal. Phil Coulson was stronger than that. He was like an android. An android ninja. An android ninja with a frightening amount of blood pooling round his unconscious body, but an android ninja nonetheless.

He knew that the Avengers were not going to properly fucking assemble, no matter how much they'd likely protest that fact afterwards. They were not a team, as Banner had so delightfully put it, they were a time bomb. They had potential. They needed something more. A push.

He knew that Phil would likely do something cruel and petty as revenge for ruining his cards, which is why Fury wasn't dumb enough to use the real ones. You learn real quick not to piss off Coulson. A lot of the junior agents made that mistake. Poor buggers.

He also knew that Barton would not cooperate with the team without Phil's word to do so, no matter how guilty he felt over whatever shit Loki did to his mind.

Which is why Fury did the sensible thing and was only 30% of a bastard.

"Barton, report." Fury demanded, tapping his comm.

"Nuh uh, Fury, fuck you. You really think I'm gonna listen to a word you say right now? You walk right past me and you don't even tell me he's fucking dead? Fuck off." Clint spat his reply. He'd just found out his… his Phil was dead fifteen fucking minutes ago, now he was going to fight some aliens. He was allowed to be a little rude to his boss.

"Uh, yeah I do, specialist. I've got your boyfriend all fine and dandy and only slightly bloody in a hospital bed eating jello. I think you will listen to me." Fury was going to get him for

"Sir, if you're lying to me, I will shoot you through the eye. Again. And he's not my boyfriend."

"I'm not lying, agent. Now kill a couple of these Chitauri fuckers and finish up and go to medical."

"On it. I really think you should jazz up your patch, y'know? You should wear more like gold or somethin'. Ooh! You could dress up like Odin and scare the hell outta Loki that way."

"I preferred you when you weren't talking to me. At least then you were silent. Jesus, would it kill you to actually look where you're shooting for once?" Fury thundered, watching the arrow brush past his cheek.

"You're paying for that fucking window. Why are you shooting at me, instead of, y'know, the threats you are paid to take out?"

"Payback for the 15 minutes I spent thinking… thinking _Phil fucking Coulson_ had been killed. Doesn't give the rest of us much hope if he can be taken out by a fucking customized glowstick."

"What the fuck is Stark doing, barton?"

"I'm going to take your dismissal of that as an apology. And I have no idea. The guy is crazy."

"We know that, agent. Maintain radio silence unless you're actually going to report properly. God, how does Coulson put up with you? Is Stark… Is he flying the nuke up? What the..?"

"I'm an acquired taste, sir…" Clint butted in, stopping as he watched Iron Man fly up into a hole in the sky. This was the weirdest day ever.

"He's not out yet, sir."

"Don't you think I can damn well see that myself, Barton!?"

"He's falling sir."

"Barton, I can see that. Do you have anything of use to report?"

"I think Hulk's going to catch him… Yeah, yeah he's running."

"Get down. Get down. You'll be more use on the ground."

"On it."

"And Barton? Don't tell the others just yet. They need something to get past Stark being a dick and scaring us all like that."

"Sir? What if he is dead?"

"Pha. No. Stark and Coulson are more alike than Coulson would ever care to admit. There's no way a little lack of oxygen and seeing all of time and space and falling from the sky would harm Stark all that… ok, good point. Check on him."

"He's ok, sir, you can stop worrying about your weapon supply now."

Fury was sure he could hear Barton _wink_ down the comm.

"Shut the fuck up, specialist. Finish up."

* * *

Clint didn't get to see Coulson straight after the fight. Tony wanted shawarma, and as he was Tony now instead of just Stark, Clint had to oblige. And shawarma was delicious. And Coulson probably didn't want to see him anyway. He'd attacked the helicarrier, goddammit.

Flopping down in his chair as he returned from the bathroom, Clint shoved food into his mouth using his now dust-free hands.

"To Agent Coulson." Clint turned away from his plate to see Tony raising his glass in a toast, the others following suit. Clint swallowed his mouthful and joined them, making sure not to look at Natasha, as she and Phil were the only people who could properly read him, and she'd know right away that he was hiding something.

And god, was it so bad that he wanted Phil all to himself, just for a little while.

Ok, yes, it was really quite bad, so sue him.

"You jackass!" Natasha cried, thumping him in the back. Shit. He'd accidentally caught her eye. His guilty conscience probably did that deliberately.

"What'd he do?" Steve asked, confused at the violent outburst.

"He knows that Coulson is alive, and he didn't tell any of us!"

"…You got all that from one look? Ow!" Clint asked. She slapped him.

"Clint, you bastard. You're so grounded. I'm revoking your TV privilges for like, two days."

"Stark, what?"

"Hey, it's Tony, Tony, call me Tony."

"How many pain meds did you take, Tony?"

"Coulson can move in too! Let's go see him!" Tony dragged his fellow Avengers out, leaving half their food behind. Thor brought his plate with him. Natasha grabbed Clint by the shoulder and pulled him back.

"I don't know what you were thinking not telling me. Are you insane?" she spat, hand on his head, ready to knock whatever out or whatever in.

"No. Yes. A little. I just… I half didn't believe it, 'Tasha. And I half wanted to keep him myself."

"Oh for god's sake, Barton!" She hit him again. "You can have him to yourself if you would just ask him. Please. The sexual tension is killing me. If you don't, I will to get you back for this. I still can't believe you. I've been worrying about you, and you've been fine! I haven't been fine, Clint!"

"'Tasha, I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry." He stroked her hair. That was as intimate as they went, no matter what the other agents thought.

"Hey, love birds, come on!" Stark, presumably, yelled over at them.

Natasha tensed and calmed, sobering up.

"Come on. Let's go see Phil."

* * *

Fury was not an idiot, but he was a bit of a bastard. Only about 30% of a bastard, maybe. He had a good side, in theory, but hid that by making Barton the bad guy.

"You have to be cruel to be kind" is his motto.

* * *

**There's a second part to this. I'll post it in two days, I expect.**

**Please review?**


	2. Chapter 2

The Avengers crashed into the hospital room currently being occupied by one Phillip Coulson.

"Hey guys! Missed you loads. You're all so cool and awesome and hey!" Phil Coulson slurred, his eyes wide and happy, breaking his normally stoic routine.

Correction: one _insanely_ drugged up Phillip Coulson.

"Nice to see you too, agent. JARVIS, film all of this please, I want to blackmail him with it later."

"Tony! He's vulnerable. JARVIS, ignore him!" Bruce countered.

"Tony, you're mean!" Coulson yawned, reaching blindly to swat him away.

Clint fell silently into the chair on the other side of the hospital bed. Coulson sensed him and rolled over.

"Hey baby! What took you so long!?"

Clint blushed at the term of endearment, a little spark of hope igniting in him.

"Fury told us you were dead. The only one who told differently was Agent Barton." Natasha said.

"Ah. It's 'cause he knows you're my favourite, Clinton Barton. Such a nice guy, Nick. He's like a puppy dog really."

"He ruined your.. cards." Steve spoke up, directing his words at the ground instead of Phil.

"…That bastard."

"Yeah." The Avengers chorused.

"We should probably leave you to sleep some more now. Good to have you back though, agent." Steve said, using his Captain America voice. Phil mentally saluted, his arms too floppy and unfamiliar to actually move them properly.

"No, don't leave!" He said, shocked, as they all stood up. Clint immediately sat back down, Coulson practically purring when their hands brushed.

"Love you, Clint." He murmured, elongating each syllable. Clint grinned.

"Love you more, you idiot."

Back at the SHIELD base, Fury was thankful for whoever invented CCTV.

As he was only 30% of a bastard, though, Phil knew he'd never actually follow through on his later threats to spread that tape around to everyone.

Tony Stark was more of a bastard, and so everyone ended up with copies, and for Clint and Phil's first anniversary (of their wedding. They weren't sure whether to count the day they found Phil or the day Phil was actually coherent as their official one, and they were married two weeks later because Tony took them all to Vegas to celebrate and things happened) they were given a huge blown up still from the video to frame on the wall in their bedroom.

* * *

**This took a while, I'm sorry.**

**This is the fourth draft. The first three were longer and had more plot but were far, far worse.**

**They were definitely unpublishable. This barely passes, so I'm sorry.**

**The idea for this was that yeah, there's no way in hell Phil is really dead, but Fury is to blame for hiding it in every fic ever and maybe I kind of felt sorry for him so made sure he didn't lie to everyone.**

**I have a new, better idea for a fic, that I will start cranking out over the next two weeks or so. College and seeking employment is a bitch, getting in the way of my Pheels.**

**Read and review, and take yourself over to my other (infinitely better) story Sir Has A Gun. I honestly don't know what happened to every plot bunny I had for this. I'm sorry.**

**I'll rewrite eventually.**


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